


magically delicious

by memitims



Series: consider ur fav ship [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Breakfast, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ian and mickey are lucky charms fiends</p>
            </blockquote>





	magically delicious

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by bullet point #9 on [this](http://zoroasterperetola.tumblr.com/post/90887735050/yes-but-consider-ur-fav-ship-making-rly-bad) list ('yes but consider ur fav ship TRYING 2 BE REAL GROWN UPS WHO R RESPONSIBLE but they still eat kids cereal and get up early 2 watch cartoons')

"Who the fuck ate all the Lucky Charms?"

Ian looked up. Mickey was glaring into the cabinet, his brow furrowed, like someone had shot his fucking dog, instead of eaten all the breakfast cereal. It was pretty funny, actually ('Disgruntled, Southside Thug Irrationally Upset About Missing Cereal').

"It wasn't me," Ian said, innocently, because he hadn't, and he'd been pretty pissed about it being gone, too, but he didn't have the wherewithal to sound like he was gonna murder whoever the culprit turned out to be. Mickey had a special brand of anger, reserved specifically for food thieves. "It was probably Debbie," (Ian actually had no idea, but he was pretty sure Mickey liked his younger sister the best, and he probably wouldn't kill her over a box of cereal). 

Mickey made some general grumpy noises, before reaching for the box of plain Cheerios. He was constantly grouchy in the morning, his hair screwed up in the back, and his eyes tired, even after downing a cup of coffee. Ian adored it. 

"Fuckin' Cheerios," he muttered to himself, "more like gross, soggy bread in milk. Who the fuck thought -"

"-they would make a good breakfast cereal," Ian finished, because Mickey went through this same rant every time he was forced to eat Cheerios for breakfast. "Got it, Mick. I know your political leanings on Cheerios."

"I hate you," Mickey huffed, but he was kinda smiling, one of those top-secret, covert-operations smiles. Mickey smiled all the time, you just had to know where to look. He smiled with his eyes when he looked at Mandy, sometimes he smiled with his teeth (his whole face lit up and beautiful) when he found something particularly amusing, and he smiled into the curve of Ian's shoulder late at night (his breath ghosting softly over Ian's skin in the darkness) when he thought Ian was asleep. Ian had a lot of practice reading Mickey, and catching sight of his precious and fleeting moments of happiness was one of his favorite skills. 

"No you don't," Ian said, and Mickey nodded, thoughtfully, his eyes catching Ian's, his face saying  _I know, I'm sorry, I don't, it's pretty much the exact fucking opposite_  and Ian smiled back at him.

Mickey spooned the Cheerios into his mouth and made unhappy faces.

\---

Fiona banned Ian and Mickey from going grocery shopping together after a particularly interesting incident comprised of three parts. 

Firstly, they came home with only a box of Lucky Charms (okay, more like four) and a bag of apples. 

Secondly, they almost got kicked out of the store for making out in the frozen foods aisle (with one of the freezer doors open, because Ian wanted to know what making out in a freezer was like, but the one at home didn't work and they couldn't find any walk-in ones nearby).

Thirdly, they forgot the coupons and paid full price for everything. 

Needless to say, Ian and Mickey did the shopping separately from then on (but they both still came home with a shit-ton of cereal).

\---

It was no wonder the Lucky Charms lasted more than a day in the Gallagher household, because when there was a box, they both took insanely large bowls of cereal. It had slowly turned into a competition to see who could fit more cereal into their dish (Ian usually won, because Mickey would get too hungry and never finish filling up his bowl). 

Ian liked these mornings the best, when the most they had to worry about was who was gonna shovel the most amount of marshmallows into their mouth, and they could sit around and watch dumb TV shows, their shoulders brushing gently on the couch, their eyes carefully sliding from the television screen to rest on each other, every once in a while. 

Ian wasn't sure if Mickey ever really got to be a kid, and he treated these mornings as some cosmic payback, a chance for Mickey to be innocent and vulnerable and carefree, something he never had the chance to experience, never had the luxury to feel (it helped Ian, too, because his childhood had also been cut short by life's realities). Mickey deserved this, he deserved to just mess around and eat too much sugary cereal and laugh at crappy cartoons (and Ian was fucking amazed that Mickey chose to share this with him, to open up in a way that Ian would have once deemed impossible). 

"Scoot your ass over," Mickey demanded, because Ian was taking up like three-quarters of the couch. He sprawled his limbs out even farther, smirking up at Mickey, because sometimes Ian liked being a little shit, liked making the gears turn in Mickey's head, liked messing with him, because he knew Mickey could handle it. 

"Fucking make me."

Mickey set his cereal bowl on the table, raising his eyebrows at the challenge. "You got it, tough guy."

Ian put his down too, because Mickey looked serious, and he was not into getting milk and marshmallows all over himself. Mickey pushed at his shoulders, but Ian didn't budge, so Mickey climbed on top of him, his bangs coming loose and swinging wildly in front of his face. Ian was pinned against the couch, and Mickey was grinning down at him, and then Ian started nudging Mickey back, but he held on tight. Mickey could be damn stubborn.

Mickey's eyes were bright, and  _god_ , Ian literally could not get enough of this kid.

He arched up and kissed Mickey, to distract him, which actually worked, because Ian was able to flip their positions around, but then Ian got distracted too and forgot what they were wrestling about, and he got that stupid lightheaded feeling that came with Mickey's kisses. Mickey's tongue in his mouth was a surefire way to have Ian's brain forget literally everything else in the world (Ian considered it to be Mickey's superpower), and he wouldn't have it any other way.

So they kissed, and the television blared, and their cereal got soggier, and Debbie stomped around upstairs, and fresh morning snow fell outside the window, blanketing Chicago in white. 

 


End file.
